


Those Hands

by SparkintheHazelcoffee1998



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Friendship/Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:27:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23796904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkintheHazelcoffee1998/pseuds/SparkintheHazelcoffee1998
Summary: In the aftermath of making it out of the well alive, Eddie thinks about Buck.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan “Buck” Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 327





	Those Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for 3x15. This episode got to me, and revealed more of Eddie's past and his motivations than I ever thought we'd get. My prior works focused on the close bond and friendship he shares with Buck, and I never felt compelled to take it further. One could argue, I didn't. I'm ok with that. Canon compliant through 3 X 15, though I took some minor liberties. Hope you enjoy. Minor Edits made.

Those Hands.

That night remains a blur to Eddie. From being forty feet down, to a never ending swim, to then breathing the sweet air, coming out of the cold darkness; having his own personal resurrection back to this life and the family he so loves.

Being examined by Hen and Chimney, the look of relief on Bobby’s face, the sterility of the Hospital, even the glut of local news reporters being faced down by Athena and her **_Death Glare_** (patent pending) are but vague blips in his mind.

Eddie knows that is normal after a trauma.

But Eddie does remember one aspect. Ingrained in his memory, and seared into his soul.

Hands.

Those hands.

**Buck’s hands.**

Grabbing him, holding him. Propelling him forward, yet supporting him. Infusing life and love and warmth back into him with each step he took that night.

He held Buck’s hand sitting in the Emergency Room, Buck’s hand on his knee as he drove Eddie home. Buck’s hand on his lower back, as he held the door open for Eddie to walk through. Buck’s hands deftly helping Eddie shed his clothes and wash off the grime as the soreness began to set in.

Buck’s hands opening the bottle of painkillers to administer Eddie a dose before he climbed into bed.

Buck combing his fingers through a sleeping Christopher’s hair _(Buck loves him too, he is as much Buck’s child as he is mine, I must never forget that)._

Buck locking the front door. ( _All he wants is for us to be secure- I must never forget that)_

Buck wordlessly laying next to him as the exhaustion finally takes hold, his right hand in Eddie’s left. Warm, strong, safe. _(Safe, I feel safe, always with Buck, **only** with Buck.)_

After everything, the two have remained the thickest of thieves, brothers, best friends, with a level of affinity and intimacy between them that rivals lovers.

Romeo and Mercutio?

Achilles and Patroclus?

David and Jonathan?

Child’s play.

“Everything but the sex.” Chimney had joked once. They had grasped hands in response, a moment of jest, laced with a deep, raw truth.

Buck’s hands, keeping him alive, keeping him here, keeping him safe.

He must never forget.

He’ll never forget.

In the gathering dark, Eddie Diaz quietly weeps.

Four days later, and Eddie finds himself to be a walking bruise, but overall ok. Calls have been light, and the team is indulging in their free time. Bobby has been making the team’s favorite dishes each shift (Fettuccine Alfredo with Italian Sausage tonight, and “Yes Hen, of course I’ll make garlic bread, hand me the garlic roaster, please.”) and Chimney is currently at the table with Hen, poring suspiciously over a jewelry catalog as they exchange whispers. Athena may stop by later, while Maddie has asked if she could play Aunt and have her “nephew” Christopher sleepover at her place and watch Disney movies all night, eating popcorn and drinking too much soda.

Only Buck spoils him more.

Eddie is seated on the couch watching the news- they’re replaying the events again. Ratings gold no doubt, and producers eat that shit up with a spoon. Eddie admits to himself that it had everything- child in crisis, heroic responders, crying mother, dangerous conditions, and a near tragic loss turned into a miraculous happy ending, film at 11.

If only things were that simple.

And then…

“Eddie! Eddie!” Buck’s screams of terror come from the screen.

Buck in the mud.

Digging.

With his hands.

Those hands.

With those hands.

Buck fighting the elements, the odds, death itself to get to Eddie.

With those hands.

This was new. Eddie heard what happened topside after the well caved in, but hadn’t yet seen it.

Now he has, and while the emotion blooms in his chest, he remains outwardly calm.

Buck is asleep next to him- or rather, on him. Head in his lap, and where Eddie has his arm draped securely over Buck’s sleeping form, there were Buck’s hands. Gentle, yet strong at the same time. A dichotomy that continually baffles and intrigues Eddie.

The team is now forgotten, pushed further into the background. Only Buck exists to Eddie right now.

Eddie looks over his sleeping body, a look of contentment on his face. Comfortable and warm against Eddie, at peace.

Eddie once again focuses on those hands.

Buck’s hands.

Eddie examines his hands.

They’re soft and warm in his.

No, not soft. That’s only the surface. Eddie looks deeper.

He feels the callouses.

The firm bone and capable sinew.

Faded scars, and healed cuts.

Light bruising on the fingertips (Eddie knows where that came from and his breath hitches slightly)

Pain.

Eddie feels pain.

The pain that hints at Buck’s childhood. The feelings of hurt and shame from events in his past. The feelings of inadequacy and loneliness he never discusses.

_“They’re good people, just bad parents.”_

_“It is the only thing that I have ever done that is important, and that mattered, ok?”_

Eddie closes his eyes, tears forming.

Life, by its very nature, hurts people like Buck. These rare, beautiful souls, who give everything of themselves, and take nothing in return. Who channel their pain into positive, if sometimes reckless, action. 

Buck became a firefighter to help people, to save them from the pain he has experienced and put good into the world.

Eddie became a firefighter to help people too. People like Buck. To prevent them from having to experience pain and show them there is still good in the world.

_“Eddie! Eddie!”_

_“I lost him Eddie. I’m sorry...I, I tried…”_

_“I just want you to talk to me…”_

The tears fall.

After all this time, after everything - Eddie knows he has caused Buck the most pain in this life. The most hurt.

Yet here they are, together as usual.

Hands.

Those hands.

On his face, brushing his tears away.

Buck’s hands.

One on his face, the other now placed over his heart.

Those hands, trembling slightly as Eddie proceeds to lean his head down.

A kiss.

Soft and sad, but happy and sweet.

Filled with remorse. Filled with longing and love.

And hands.

Those hands.

 ** _Evan’s hands_**.

On the back of his neck, in his hair.

A kiss returned.

In the gathering joy, Eddie Diaz quietly weeps.


End file.
